Ha, eat this, you shit face.
Jestin winks as we are left alone before he offers me his arm and leads us towards Nulok, standing near the stage.
“And here I was, betting against Nulok that you’d bolt into the night. You cost me ten golds.” He uses that entertaining tone reserved for public speaking, but his green eyes are warm.
A warmth that breeds butterflies in my stomach.
Nulok grins, looking unfairly good despite the messy, copper hair, dove blue eyes and freckles that never quite suited any Fae. “Hi, Seleste. I’m sorry you missed our mating. Hopefully we can count you in for the anniversary?”
Before I can come up with an excuse, he pulls me into a hug. My body stiffens on instinct, but after a heartbeat, I let myself relax into it.
“I’m sorry, Nulok,” I breathe into his chest.
“What was that?” He teases, and lets me slip out of his embrace.
My cheeks are too warm when I pull away, and of course, Jestin notices, but he doesn’t comment.
“We understand,” he says softly, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry about it.”
The easy acceptance tightens my throat. He’s better than any of us. Fae hold grudges, but not him. He has more empathy than the mind healers, and it’s impossible not to like him, even if he doesn’t particularly care for company.
He has affection for only three things: Samira, Jestin, and his books.
Jestin recognised his loyalty and particular set of skills, and the moment he inherited his lordship, he offered Nulok a position as his aide, making him the second most powerful Fae in Santorili.
I nod, grateful. “Nulok is a better judge of character.”
Nulok’s dove-blue eyes hold mine. “Jestin always had trouble seeing past his feelings for you.”
“Oh, that hurt.” Jestin grabs his heart, as if in pain, before continuing in a more solemn, but still teasing, tone. “Your actions are hard to predict nowadays, Seleste.”
“The first rule of successful courting, according to Madam Narose, is to keep the male guessing,” I use the same tone.
“Right, I’ll see you at the meeting, Sels?” Nulok asks, and Jestin’s entire body stiffens. “I mean… at the Summer Solstice party,” Nulok corrects himself.
What was that?
“Sure,” I reply, and Nulok tilts his chin towards us before heading off to find Samira.
“Mating looks good on him,” I say with a small smile.
“He’s insufferable,” Jestin mutters, rolling his eyes. “The ceremony only strengthened his absolute adoration for his female.”
“Are you jealous of his happiness?” I tease, but his stare pins me, sharp, strange, and far too intense.
“Every fucking day,” he says quietly. “Every fucking day I watch Samira look at him like that, while my love keeps avoiding my gaze.”
“Believe me, you’re better off without me. I only ever bring you misery.” The words slip out before I can stop them, and now they hang in the air between us, raw and irretrievable.
He steps closer, fingers tilting my chin up until I have no choice but to meet his eyes. “You, Seleste, are the source of everything good in my life, even if you’re a mess.”
“Right...” I say, turning my gaze to the singer finishing his performance.
“Shall we?” Jestin offers me his arm, and I hang onto him like a Solstice decoration, desperate to stay perched for the next season.
He makes me feel safe, like he is my personal shield against the scrutiny of the court and honestly, he is. No one’s stupid enough to give him a dirty look.
He leads me to the centre of the room. Linked by our arms, Jestin leans in and whispers next to my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “By the way, I admire the effort. You certainly keep me on my toes,” he winks, as if we’re the only ones here. He’s bold enough to wink at me before everyone. Me, the disgraced Seleste Berigander.
